Grief is among the most punishing emotions. That may be why mainstream films handle it so poorly. But horror? Horror filmmakers don’t shy away from what hurts, which may be why grief is such a ripe subject for the genre.
Filmmaker and author Samantha Kolesnik joins us to discuss some of the best grief-stricken films in horror.
6. The Nightingale (2018)
A mother’s grief is something many filmmakers see as the pinnacle in pain, the one emotion almost unimaginable in scope and depth and anguish. That’s why brilliant filmmaker Jennifer Kent begins here, using this one moment of ultimate agony to punctuate an almost unwatchable scene of brutality, to tell a tale not of this mother and her grief, but of a nation—a world—crippled by the brutality and grief of a ruling white male culture.
What happens to Clare (Aisling Franciosi) at the hands of Leftenant Hawkins (Sam Claflin), the British officer to whom she is in service, is as brutal and horrifying as anything you’re likely to see onscreen. It’s the catalyst for a revenge picture, but The Nightingale is far more than just that.
Kent’s fury fuels her film, but does not overtake it. She never stoops to sentimentality or sloppy caricature. She doesn’t need to. Her clear-eyed take on this especially ugly slice of history finds more power in authenticity than in drama.
5. A Dark Song (2016)
Writer/director Liam Gavin also begins his story by dropping us breathless and drowning in a mother’s grief. Sophia (Catherine Walker) will do anything at all just to hear her 6-year-old son’s voice again. She will readily commit to whatever pain, discomfort or horror required of her by the occultist (Steve Oram) who will perform the ritual to make it happen.
Anything except the forgiveness ritual.
What Gavin and his small but committed cast create is a shattering but wonderful character study. Walker never stoops to sentimentality, which is likely what makes the climax of the film so heartbreaking and wonderful.
4. Don’t Look Now (1973)
Perhaps what makes Nicolas Roeg’s 1973 horror the most perfect pick for this list is that the film, which deals exclusively in grief, is most interested in how it impacts a father.
Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie deliver unerring authenticity as the parents trying to recover from the death of their daughter. Roeg plays with imagery and timelines to induce an almost tear-stained blurriness on the events as they transpire.
The heartbreak in the film lies in the guilt, fear of culpability, and inability to change what has happened or what will happen. Though the film’s twist may have been what made a splash in 1973, it’s the honesty in depicting grief that’s helped it remain relevant for nearly 50 years.
3. Hereditary (2018)
Grief and guilt color every somber, shadowy frame of writer/director Ari Aster’s unbelievably assured feature film debut, Hereditary.
With just a handful of mannerisms, one melodic clucking noise, and a few seemingly throwaway lines, Aster and his magnificent cast quickly establish what will become nuanced, layered human characters, all of them scarred and battered by family.
Art and life imitate each other to macabre degrees while family members strain to behave in the manner that feels human, seems connected, or might be normal. What is said and what stays hidden, what’s festering in the attic and in the unspoken tensions within the family, it’s all part of a horrific atmosphere meticulously crafted to unnerve you.
2. Midsommar (2019)
In Midsommar, we are as desperate to claw our way out of this soul-crushing grief as Dani (Florence Pugh). Mainly to avoid being alone, Dani insinuates herself into her anthropology student boyfriend Christian’s (Jack Reynor) trip to rural Sweden with his buds.
Little does she know they are all headed straight for a modern riff on The Wicker Man.
Like a Bergman inspired homage to bad breakups, this terror is deeply-rooted in the psyche, always taking less care to scare you than to keep you unsettled and on edge.
1.Antichrist (2009)
Lars von Trier’s foray into horror follows a couple down a deep and dark rabbit hole of grief. Von Trier’s films have often fixated on punishing viewers and female protagonists alike, but in this film the nameless woman (played fearlessly by Charlotte Gainsbourg) wields most of the punishment – whether upon her mate (Willem Dafoe) or herself.
Consumed by grief, a mother allows her husband—also grieving—to become her psychotherapist as they retreat to their isolated cabin deep in the woods where they will try to overcome the horror of losing their only child.
We can all agree on one thing: 2020 blows. It hasn’t been
great for movies, either, what with every major film being pushed back until at
least autumn. But, as is always the case, these challenges have created
opportunities for spunky little movies ready to come into our homes, where we
spend so very, very much time now, and help us make it through The Great Pause.
These are our favorite films of the first half of 2020.
10. Capone
You’ve seen Capone on film: films about him, films containing
him, films about gangsters reminiscent of him. A lot of these movies have been
great – some of them classic. But you have never seen Alphonse Capone the
way writer/director Josh Trank sees him.
Wisely, Trank realized Tom Hardy
would be able to translate his vision.
The film focuses on the final year of the
infamous mobster’s life—the adult diapers and dementia year. Hardy finds
the faulty humanity in this character. His depiction of Capone’s confusion is
unerringly human, and in his hands Trank’s macabre humor never feels like
mockery.
Trank’s loose narrative is less concerned with
the scheming, criss-crossing and backstabbing from underlings trying to find
the money than it is with Capone’s deterioration, and that’s what makes this
film so gloriously odd. No doubt some viewers will be disappointed—those who
tuned in to see Hardy play a badass at the top of his game. My guess is that
the reason one of the finest actors working today was drawn to Capone was the
opportunity to do something just this unexpected.
9. The Lodge
Several Fiala and Veronika Franz follow up
their creepy Goodnight Mommy with this “white death” horror that sees a
future stepmom having a tough time getting to know the kids during a weeklong,
snowbound cabin retreat. Riley Keough is riding an impressive run of
performances and her work here is slippery and wonderful. As the unwanted new
member in the family, she’s sympathetic but also brittle.
Jaeden Martell, a kid who has yet
to deliver a less than impressive turn, is the human heartbeat at the center of
the mystery in the cabin. His tenderness gives the film a quiet, pleading
tragedy. Whether he’s comforting his grieving little sister or begging Grace
(Keough) to come in from the snow, his performance aches and you ache with him.
There’s no denying the mounting dread the filmmakers create, and
the three central performances are uniquely effective. Thanks to the actors’
commitment and the filmmakers’ skill in atmospheric horror, the movie grips
you, makes you cold and uncomfortable, and ends with a memorable slap.
8. Why Don’t You Just Die!
Given that 75% of writer/director Kirill Sokolov’s Why Don’t You Just Die! takes place
in a single apartment—one room of that apartment, really—you might be surprised
to learn that it’s an action film.
It’s pretty heavy on the action,
actually, amplified by inspired framing, kinetic cinematography, sometimes
hilarious but always eye-popping choreography, and blood. Just a ton of blood.
With a spare script, visual wonder and energy to burn, Why Don’t You Just Die! promises
to snatch your attention like a duffle bag of cash and hang on until exactly
enough blood is spilled.
That’s a lot.
7. The True History of the Kelly Gang
Planting its flag unapologetically at the
corner of accuracy and myth, The True History of the Kelly
Gang reintroduces a legendary 1870s folk hero through
consistently bold and compelling strokes.
Director Justin Kurzel and screenwriter Shaun
Grant – the duo behind the true crime shocker The Snowtown Murders nine
years ago – go bigger this time, trading spare intimacy for a tableau of grand
visual and narrative ideas.
With a direct nod to the moment when “the myth
is more profitable than the man,” Kurzel spins an irresistible yarn that
manages to balance the worship of its hero with some condemnation for his sins.
And as the road to Kelly’s guns-blazing capture unfurls, the film incorporates
elements of both a tense crime thriller and a Nightingale-esqe
reminder of savage colonialism.
6. Capital in the 21st Century
New Zealand filmmaker Justin Pemberton has
assembled an array of scholars and historians (including Thomas Piketty, author
of the source book) for a 103-minute presentation that is so informative,
measured and concise it should earn you college credits.
There are graphs, illustrations and pop culture
snippets from film and television that Pemberton weaves throughout the lecture
material to attract the eye and boost the film’s overall entertainment value.
But make no mistake, his mission is about breaking down the 400 years of
history that explain the social and economic precipice we’re teetering on right
now.
And while some of the lessons are not new (i.e.
we need a strong middle class) the context here is so vivid and relevant many
observations may land with an echo of “eureka!” inside your head.
5. Never Rarely Sometimes Always
With her 2013 debut It Felt Like Love, Eliza
Hittman brought a refreshing honesty to the teen drama. At its core, Never Rarely Sometimes Always could be seen as
Hittman’s kindred sequel to her first feature, as two friends (Talia Ryder and
a stunning Sidney Flanagan) navigate a cold, sometimes cruel world that lies
just beyond the hopeful romanticism of first love.
NRSA shows
Hittman in full command of her blunt truth-telling, demanding we accept this
reality of women fighting to control their own bodies amid constant waves of
marginalization.
Just three films in, Hittman has established
herself as a filmmaker of few words, intimate details and searing
perspective. NRSW is a sensitive portrayal
of female friendship and courage, equal parts understated and confrontational
as it speaks truths that remain commonly ignored.
4. The Vast of Night
Opening with vintage Rod Serling welcoming us
to “Paradox Theatre,” director Andrew Patterson unveils an incredibly polished
debut, one that’s full of meticulous craftsmanship, effective pacing and
wonderfully engaging storytelling.
Peterson’s commitment to production
and sound design results in a totally immersive experience. The period details
– from costumes to recording equipment – are more than just historically
correct. Paired with the rapid-fire, comfortably lived-in dialog from
screenwriters James Montague and Craig W. Sanger, they create a throwback
setting that charms without the tell of undue effort.
Peterson also flexes confidently
behind the camera, moving from extended tracks to slow pans to quiet stills,
all in service of the film’s wondrous tone. With Sierra McCormick and Jake Horowitz
leading a stellar ensemble, what could have been a generic sci-fi time filler
becomes a smart parable with an eerie grip.
3. Swallow
Putting a relevant twist on the classic
“horrific mother” trope, writer/director Carlo Mirabella-Davis uses the rare
eating disorder pica to anchor his exploration of gender dynamics and, in
particular, control.
Where Mirabella-Davis’s talent for building tension and framing scenes drive the narrative, it’s Bennett’s performance that elevates this work. Serving as executive producer as well as star, Haley Bennett transforms over the course of the film.
When things finally burst, director and star
shake off the traditional storytelling, the Yellow Wallpaper or Awakening or even Safe.
The filmmaker’s vision and imagery come full circle with a bold conclusion
worthy of Bennett’s performance.
2. Shirley
Director Josephine Decker’s languid style
seduces you, keeps you from pulling away from her films’ underlying tensions,
darkness, sickness. She specializes in that headspace that mixes the story as
it is and the story as it’s told, which makes her a fitting guide for Susan
Scarf Merrell’s fictionalized account of this slice of Shirley Jackson’s life.
Decker manipulates the pacing,
melancholy and sensuality of her tale beautifully, drawing a stirring
performance from Young. But my god, what she gets from Elisabeth Moss and Michael
Stuhlbarg.
Moss and Stuhlbarg play Shirley
Jackson and her husband, Stanley Hyman. To witness two such remarkable talents
sparring like this, aided by a biting script that offers them ample opportunity
to wade into the sickness and dysfunction of this marriage—it’s breathtaking.
The result is dark and unseemly,
appropriately angry and gorgeously told—fitting tribute to the author.
1. Da 5 Bloods
A heist movie on the surface, Da
5 Bloods is clearly about a great deal more than making it rich. Writer/director
Spike Lee has a lot to say about how those in power tell us what we want to
hear so we will do what they want us to do.
As is always the case with Lee’s
films, even the most overtly political, deeply felt performances give the
message meaning. The entire cast is excellent, but Delroy Lindo is
transcendent.
Lindo’s never given a bad performance in his 45
years on screen. As commanding a presence as ever at 68 playing Paul, Lindo
again blends vulnerability into every action, whether funny, menacing or
melancholy. His MAGA hat-wearing, self-loathing, dangerously conflicted
character gives Lee’s themes a pulse. This may finally be the performance to
get Lindo the Oscar he’s deserved for ages.
It should surprise no one that Lee’s latest
happens to hit the exact nerve that throbs so loudly and painfully right now,
given that he’s been telling this exact story in minor variations for 30+
years.
Imagine being so successful at something that it bores you.
After decades in the music business, millions of records sold, 16 Grammy awards, scores of nominations, and multiple careers launched, improved or saved, that’s where legendary producer David Foster found himself.
His new passion is Broadway, where he hopes to launch a hit musical and maybe even check off the the T in EGOT (with a Tony award). This career shift has seemingly inspired Foster to look back, talking at length to director Barry Avrich for David Foster: Off the Record.
With an introductory promise to Avrich to “be over your shoulder the whole f-ing way,” Foster is very definitely on the record. The ego is healthy but understandable, and some frank self-assessment helps Foster come off as a complex, demanding, uniquely talented charmer who can be a bit of a Richard.
His perfect pitch was revealed during a self-described “perfect childhood” in Victoria, B.C., and by the time he was a young man was out-earning his parents through a variety of music gigs. After a year in London, he landed in L.A., became one-hit wonderful with Skylark (“Wildflower”) in ’72, caught the ear of Streisand in a recording session, and the rocket ride began.
Obviously, the man’s got some great stories. What Avrich has is a great editor in Eugene Weis, and together they set the perfect pace for a film about a guy who admits to only feeling comfortable in the fast lane.
Weis supercuts interview footage to create lively “conversations” between Foster and his colleagues, while Avrich lingers on Foster when he listens hard to one of his creations (such as Celine Dion’s “All By Myself”), drinking it in and relishing the effect.
Even if you don’t love all the tunes (and it’s clear members of Chicago aren’t exactly big fans of Foster’s bombastic 80’s ballads that rescued their career), it’s hard to resist the engaging nature of the storytelling. And they just keep coming, from crashing a party at Streisand’s and fighting over The Bodyguard soundtrack to saving a broadway star’s life by almost killing him and helping launch reality TV.
But while most of the film is gracefully laced with Foster’s honest introspection on his multiple failed marriages and concerns about being a good father, the final act wavers with a more glossy, choreographed concentration on his personal life.
Avrich recovers with a parting nod to Foster’s new focus on Broadway, the unconquered quest in the city he doesn’t enjoy. But hey, at least he’s not bored.
Thanks to what’s on the record in Off The Record, you won’t be, either.
